Call of Ascension
by Kyubak
Summary: Miradel doesn't wish power. Why does she choose godhood, then? She has reasons. But it's too late. She will choose. Also there are bits of what happened to the character after her choice.
1. Chapter 1

_Well, before you read this let me say you that Mira is far more nice and maternal than before. Sorry if you miss her being a bitch :D. And yes! I changed Viccy's class. Remember "Who prays to the darkness is always betrayed" right? It's very mushy, beware._

**Disclaimer: Every character belongs to Bioware, I do not earn money with this fic.**

Calling of Ascension 

The Solar looked expectantly at Miradel. The bhaalspawn's face was devoid of emotions. No fear, something she got used to, no rage, no despair. Nothing.

"So, which is your choice, child of Bhaal? Will you become a goddess and abandon this plane, or will you stay as a mortal?" asked the Solar, patience still noted in her eyes.

Miradel's abyss black eyes glanced at her companions. Jaheira's face, even if more impatient than the Solar's, was also expecting an answer. Anomen wasn't very calm, either, yet his eyes showed hope for the necromancer to stay with her companions. Aerie was still a bit awed by the fact of Melissan's defeat, yet still her blue eyes exuded fear from Miradel's choice. Andure and Viconia were also expecting her choice, Andure with his eyes closed and ears attent, Viconia had her eyes examining Miradel. Imoen was clearly pleading Miradel to stay, her eyes afraid of seeing directly at her sister. And Valygar...

The ranger's face was a cold, emotionless mask. The frown in his face always persistent, never truly away of his features. Then, his brown eyes met the black ones of Miradel. There was a mix of emotions in that single glance: fear, love, certainty, regret and, most of all, understanding. Understanding of what was about to happen.

Then, the wizardess threw a dark look at the Solar. Her lips moved, but words could not come out. Fear. But she would not give up. Not now.

"I... I came here to get rid of the curse. But obviously I have made a mark in Faerun, something that won't be forgotten. I cannot stay in this place, I shall choose... godhood." Some disgust could be noted in the last word.

The Solar nodded, not particularly disgusted nor satisfied by the answer "So be it. Any last words to your friends before you go?" she asked. Miradel nodded. "Go, Lady of Murder, and say goodbye."

Miradel walked towards Aerie. The elf's eyes were covered of tears. "There, there" she said soothingly, stroking the cleric's hair "Be careful with this world, avariel. You already know what it is and now you are powerful enough to survive in it." Aerie nodded, tears still flowing through her smooth face.

Then, the necromancer turned to Anomen. The priest's eyes were full of sadness, Miradel smiled a little "Please, don't tell me not to go in the name of Helm." she said teasingly. Anomen returned the smile "I cannot, milady, it's your choice. Besides, your loyalty to Kelemvor is hard to break with the words of my lord. Good luck in thy way, Miradel." he said. The necromancer smiled fully this time "Good luck in thy busyness too, young knight."

Then, Jaheira went to Miradel slowly, her eyes in a frown. "It is over then, isn't it?" she asked, sadness ripping her voice. "It is so, Jaheira. I must say that I'm sorry that you could not attend your grief in order to help me" apologised the other woman. Jaheira patted Miradel's hand reassuringly and said "Life is made of decisions. I made mine and I do not have regrets, child. Hmm... calling child to a goddess doesn't seem the wisest of things, does it?" she said with an attempt at humor from her part. "I'm going to miss you, my friend."

Imoen didn't need words for what she was going to do. She practically launched herself at Miradel into a warm hug, sobbing loudly. Miradel was a bit surprised by her act, then she patted her in the back, whispering words of confort at her ears. Then, Imoen released her, face tear-stained and chest hurting for crying.

Andure held the necromancer's hand in his own, shaking it. "It was fun as it dured, sister. Hope to see you again." said the stalker. Miradel answered with a wise smile, but stood quiet. Viconia was sharpening her dagger as she said "So, it ends here. I knew that you would eventually give up to the power, Jalil.". Miradel glared at the assassin at first, then smiled wistfully, keeping the reasons for her own. Then she turned to Valygar.

"I know why you'll ascend. Do it and do not torment me more." he said in a cold and hasty way. Miradel's expression hardened, then said "As you wish, my lover. Farewell" Then she looked at the Solar "I'm ready." The Solar nodded.

The reasons of Miradel are dark. Only she, Valygar and Irenicus know them.


	2. Return to the forgotten

_Buffoon... Err, author's note: What happened to Immy after Mira's ascension. Sad, melodramatic and well, bad written ;). Sorry if this is what you expect, it's very rushed. But it's not my fault, it's rather my muse :D Also it's a songfic. And well... there's a slight Neverwinter crossover, if you have played the game and are able to note it. Enjoy!_

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Character below are Bioware's work and the lyrics from "Nobody's home" are work of Avril Lavigne**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Imoen's eyes darted to the fortress she had in front. Grey stone walls defended a beautiful place. A place of knowlege and wisdom. A place of books and bards. Candlekeep was in front of her.

It was so long before she had been inside its walls. So long... Winthrop. Would he still be alive? Would he remember her? There was only one way of knowing it. She got near the main door. Hull, ah dear drunk Hull, thought Imoen smiling, remembering the time she stole his sword and put it in Puffguts' bed. It was jolly fun... until Miradel discovered it. Her smile faded away as she remembered her sister, tears replacing it.

Then, the guard looked at her with a mix of joy and regret in his eyes "Hi there, fella. I'm glad to see ye. But..." he hesitated "You still need to bring a valious book" he said, no trail of the happiness from before.

Imoen smiled at the old guard "Hiya, I'm glad to see ya too, Hull. 'Bout the book, here y'are." And she handled him a well illustrated book with the picture of a skull at the right and a crying woman at the left. Hull looked at it pleased, and grinned at Imoen "It's fine, lassie, pass and feel the comfort o' Candlekeep" Imoen returned the grin "Have a nice day, Hull." And she entered the fortress.

Entered to an abandoned, yet not forgotten, past.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Imoen walked gingerly towards the inn. Its door was rather old, with a few holes in it. It seems that someone is lazy today, she smirked to herself. Then she opened the door.

The place was surrounded by the smell of food and wines. The perfume of some nobles was also notable. The inn's wooden walls were also a bit old. Then, near the enter, she saw a man in his late forties, a beard in his chin and a beer in his hand. Puffguts, thought Imoen happily.

She sneaked near him, trying not to be noticed. Then, when Winthrop seemed oblivious about her presence, she lauched herself at him in a bear hug. "Hiya, ol' Puffguts!" she exclaimed cheerfully, causing a scary look from the innkeeper. Then, noticing who was the girl, he smiled.

"So you are back, dear scoundrel. And you still call me 'Puffguts' " he said.

"Whoa, never forget it, PUFFGUTS!" she said, making emphasis in the nickname. Then, she pressed the hug.

Imoen had a look at Winthrop. He looked older than before. His head was completely bald, not like before when he still had some hair in the extreme parts of his head. He looked thinner, also. There was no more plump hips in his body. Imoen supposed that he had decided to have diet after THAT talk.

Then, the thief released Winthrop from her embrace. "Whatcha been doing, Puffguts?" The innkeeper smiled a little, feeling uncomfortable by the question. "Well, you know-" "Nope, I don't" she teased "Don't interrupt me, girl. Well, most of the time I've been here, but I made a journey to Neverwinter, you see. And... I encountered a helmite priest." Sadness was noted in the last sentence.

"What happened with that priest, Puffguts?" she asked curiously. Winthrop looked at her, his gaze being devoid of emotions "Nothing, kid. Nothing." And he walked upstairs.

Imoen knew that there was something, so she followed him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX **

_**She wants to go home**_

Imoen looked at the door. She tried to open it, but it only made a noise and stood still. Then, she examined the ceiling. Damn, its locked. Then, she grabbed a little stick she had in her pockets and used it as a picklock. Then the door opened. Imoen looked horrified at what she had in her sight. Her world was shattering.

_**But nobody's home**_

Winthrop's forehead was covered with sweat. His hand was very injured, almost bleeding. His face was wincing in pain. He was in his deathbed.

_**It's where she lies, broken inside! With no place to go**_

Imoen approached at the man. Her grey gaze was wet, demanding an explanation. Then she sat in a near chair from the bed. Her face was already trailed by tears, as she placed her hands in Winthrop's chest.

_**No place to go, broken inside!**_

"I'm glad that the gods gave me the opportunity of seeing you again" he whispered, agony being noted in his voice "But I'm afraid that this is a goodbye, scoundrel. Be well in your life, Imoen."

_**With no place to go, no place to go**_

"Please, Winthrop" she sobbed, her body shaking in the vain effort of controlling her tears. "Dontcha go, please. I won't have anything please." Winthrop's very eyes were wet too "I... I'm sorry." Then he closed his eyes, face growing still and body becoming limp. He was dead.

_**It's where she lies, broken inside!**_

Imoen cried in Winthrop's cold chest. Tears not able to be controlled anymore, sadness needing to go out of her. What could she do now? What?

_**She's lost inside, lost inside!**_

The only thing she could come up was crying. No way she could do anything else. Not now.

_**She's lost inside, lost inside!**_


	3. Perhaps

_Buffoon's note: In case you forgot, Alenina is the bard found in Trademeet's inn, That's all I'm gonna tell. Well, with the exception of this:_

**Disclaimer: Though you already know it, I don't own anything, don't earn money from it because of the fact that BG2 and its characters belong to Bioware.**

The fountain's water was making a reflect of the sad silhouette before it. Shaking and sobbing in the grass, the reflected girl stood up, stiffening. Then, the girl moved her head in direction to a nearly tree. There was a woman who sat at its side.

The water also reflected that woman. Blonde curls were her hair, full lips were the ones that let her mouth shut and open to produce a melodious sound. Smooth features were hers, and lithe her body was. . Her arms wrapped an elegant harp, letting to know that the woman was a bard

The young girl went to see the woman. A sad smile crept in the girl's lips when she reckoned the other female. The bard returned the smile. Then a conversation was heard.

"Hello, Alenina" said the young girl , sadness still visible in her eyes. The bard squeezed her shoulder "Nice to see you, Imoen".

Reflect of friendship was that of the females near the fountain.

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Two hours later, Imoen ate her meal quietly at the inn, often looking at Alenina, who just smiled. The bard was no close friend of hers, yet she travelled a bit with Andure and Viconia and helped Haer' Dalis with the book. The mage had no idea why did she come here, but she would not ask... not now at least.

Imoen glanced at her "I'm going to my room" She said and stood up from her chair. Then, Alenina gestured with her hand to her to stay. Imoen nodded silently.

"My young friend, I'm sure that your silence is due to something wrong. Would you like to talk about it?" she asked gently.

Imoen's reply wasn't gentle as hers, though "I'm not going to open myself with someone that I know little. Sorry, me go to bed" she retorted. Alenina stood up too and grabbed firmly Imoen by the arm. "What is wrong with you? You can tell me, I won't say anything about it."

The thief and the were lost in the silence. No words were spoken, no sound was heard, until Imoen opened her mouth. "Puffguts is... Winthrop... he's dead" she managed to speak, tears already wetting her grey eyes.

Alenina squeezed her back, giving a respectful nod and saying "I'm sorry to hear it. He was a friend of mine too" " Imoen moved towards the bard, a smile in her lips "Don't worry. Though I'm not sure why he died. He would have told me, wouldn't he?" she stopped smiling and bit her upper lip. "The only words he spoke were that he went to Neverwinter and met a helmite priest."

"He went to Neverwinter?" exclaimed Alenina surprised. The thief nodded. "Imoen, Neverwinter is suffering from a presumed contagious sickness!" Then, Imoen's eyes widened. " Are you suggesting that Winthrop died of that?" she demanded, her voice trembling.

Alenina's eyebrows were in a frown. "I'm not sure. They've recently closed the doors, fearing that the sickness would spread across the Sword Coast. Just yesterday."

"Winthrop returned a week ago. It's impossible that they had closed the city with him inside." Then, the silence enveloped them again, this time in thought and not in respect.

"Perhaps he was one of the first victims of this mysterious illness. Helmite priests are the ones that spread 'hope' in Neverwinter and moan about how difficult is their job." she said, a smile twitching her lips. Imoen nodded, then noticed the smile and asked "Why are you smiling?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just that I'm sure that we all know many moaning priests." and the smile turned into a grin.

"Hey! Anomen and Aerie were not that whiny!" she said in a mock indignation. "Imoen, do I have to remember you that I travelled with Andure and Viconia? Viconia was no longer a priestess, but still..." she trailed of, and chuckled as she saw Imoen's face almost wincing to stop the laugh. "Don't worry, Viconia is not near." she said tentatively. Then, Imoen let a gale of laughter out of her chest, and Alenina did the same.

Imoen could not believe this. She was remembering her friends with happiness and not with regret and sadness. Damn bards, she thought, They can cheer you up in the worst of times.

Was the one who cheered her up Alenina? Or was herself the one who abandoned her grief over Winthrop's death, Miradel's ascension and her friends' departure? Could it be?

Perhaps she had hope?


End file.
